


By the Riverside

by peaches2217



Category: Harvest Moon, Story of Seasons: Trio of Towns
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post-Coital Fluff, Which is the best kind of fluff if I must say so myself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-26 10:08:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19003621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peaches2217/pseuds/peaches2217
Summary: It's warm and beautiful and peaceful, and Ford can hardly think of a better way to spend a summer evening.





	By the Riverside

**Author's Note:**

> Look. That plot of land you get after completing the first Farming Tips would be a perfect place to have tipsy outdoor sex. Don't try to deny it.

For the life of him, Ford couldn’t think of a much better way to wake up.

A warm night breeze tousled his hair softly, calling him back into consciousness at a leisurely pace; he was greeted to the sight of fireflies dancing and flickering above head, little more than flecks of blurred light to his unaided sight. The trickling of the river sang into his ear and he turned to face it, finding his glasses an arm's length away and watching for a time the sparkling waters flow on their way. Indeed, what could be more perfect than this?

The answer to that question stirred beside him.

Ford turned his attention lazily to his left, where lay a sight more beautiful even than this summer eve. In the light of the moon she shined, her tanned and freckled skin glowing, her flaxen hair spread out in all directions around her sleeping face. Despite the blanket laid out beneath them, she’d still managed to get blades of grass tangled into her locks. He was tempted to pick them out. More, though, he just wanted to hold onto her. So he pulled his gorgeous love as close as he could without waking her, sighing at the warmth of their bare skins’ contact. How peaceful. How perfect. How utterly perfect.

And then the haze of sleepy romanticism wore off. And he remembered with a start that they were out in the open. Very naked and very out in the open.

“Nanami,” he said a slight bit louder than he’d intended, quickly untangling himself from her and rising into a sitting position. Through the subsequent head rush he heard her murmur in response. “Nanami, we— come. Let’s get up.”

A groan met his ears. “I’s not mornin’ yeh,” his barely-conscious wife complained, rolling onto her stomach and snuggling her cheek into her elbow.

“Precisely. Let’s get inside before it is.”

By the time he started to gather his clothes — which had been carelessly tossed along with hers next to the wicker basket they’d brought out as well — Nanami finally found the energy to move, stretching her limbs out with her rump in the air, much like a cat. “What's the rush?” The effort of stretching spent whatever energy she’d had, so she slumped again, still in her clumsy cat-like pose. “Who’s even gonna see us?”

She held a valid point. Shortly before the sun had set some hours earlier, she’d suggested the two take advantage of the beautiful evening and have a picnic by the river on the west end of the farm. It was hidden away from the entrance of the property, an area no one entered unless Nanami took them there herself. So, fueled by the buzz of wine and desire, this was the justification they used for acting on their urges then and there.

Even if someone were to wander onto the farm at this time of night, the two wouldn’t be seen. Yet Ford couldn’t quite convince himself that letting everything hang out while sheltered by nothing but open air was entirely okay.

“We might sleep in if we stay out here.” Ford bent down to pull on his pants, a silent way of confirming that he wouldn’t give into her wishes. “Early to bed, early to rise, all that—”

“Stay right there.”

He froze. “Is there something on me?”

“Nah. It’s just that I am _loving_ this view.”

“ _Nanami_ _._ ”

“C’mon. Forget the clothes. We can go back inside if you’re gonna be such a spoilsport, but I still wanna cuddle.”

When he turned to face her, she was laid out on her side, one arm propping up her head, the other lazily draped over her side, forget-me-not eyes struggling to stay open.

Every ounce of him had to fight against the urge to get back down there with her and hold her close again, drift back into a peaceful slumber in the fireflies’ light.

Sadly and thankfully, she finally pulled herself up, stumbling once she was on her feet but steadying herself before Ford could do it for her.

“Alright Mr. Paranoia.” She dipped back down and scooped up their blanket, throwing it over her husband’s shoulders. “This enough coverage for ya?” Though she tried to sound annoyed, her giggle betrayed her as she moved to swoop up the picnic basket and her discarded dress. Her mannerisms, her behavior, more bold even than usual, her stumbling… She was probably still tipsy. Where alcohol was concerned, neither could handle much more than a glass or two before they were affected, Ford because he never drank except when with Nanami and Nanami because, well, she was tiny, even (or perhaps especially) for a farmer.

He might talk to Megan on his way into work, he decided, request a moment of her time to check on Nanami while she did her chores. Hangovers and heavy farming equipment don't mix very well.

Once his clothes were gathered into one arm, he used the other to drape the blanket over her, pulling her in.

“Have a glass of water once we get back in.”

“Then cuddling?”

“As much as your heart desires.”

Contented with his answer, Nanami leaned her weight against him and closed her eyes. Ford almost contemplated ditching the blanket and clothes and carrying her back, fearing she was about to fall asleep on her feet. Yet she managed not to succumb until a few quiet and breezy minutes later when they finally crawled into their bed, and, as promised, he gathered her into an embrace against his chest.

And not long after she went under, he was lulled back into a peaceful sleep by the hum of the air conditioner and the warmth of their bare skins’ contact.


End file.
